


On My Own

by mag_nifique



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Asexual Character, Bisexual Character, Bisexual Male Character, Divorce, F/M, Gen, Loss of Parent(s), M/M, Multi, Parent Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-02-09 03:45:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1967724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mag_nifique/pseuds/mag_nifique
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story of heartbreak, loss and finding oneself amid the pressure of family, friends and life itself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One: September 1st

**Author's Note:**

> Dear reader,  
> This isn't meant to be a tragic story, though it may feel like it at times to certain shippers. This is meant to be a realistic story and that means not everyone gets a happy ending. I hope you'll forgive me for this and keep reading anyway. If not, then I wish you luck in finding a happier story.  
> -Mag

All was quiet at Malfoy Manor. The air snapped with the crisp sting of an early fall and an imposing winter. Most birds, in an unprecedented maneuver, had already gone South for the winter. It was only September 1st, but it was as if they could sense something coming. Something that they wanted no part in.

It was said that birds could sense when important change was happening, when wizards could not. The birds were silent on the day Draco Malfoy returned to the Manor, alone and afraid. The birds were silent on the day he married. The birds were silent for the birth of his first and only child. And the birds were silent when death shrouded his land.

The birds were silent now but as to whether this occasion would be for the better or worse was yet to be seen. And the result would not be seen by them.

A screech owl hooted softly from its cage which sat on harsh, stone steps beside a gangly man whose boyhood still clung to him with mussed, silver hair and wiry build. While the bird may not have been enjoying the cold snap, they were certainly enjoying the dusk of the early morning. The sun barely peaked over the tree line and torches still lit all around them. A perfect time to hunt. They had already hunted though, hours before during the night to gather their strength and prepare themselves for the long trip before they would be released from their cage, once again able to stretch their wings over the Black Lake.

Scorpius sighed. What a dreary way to start his seventh year at Hogwarts. Though as of late he hadn’t particularly minded weather like this because it matched his everlasting glum mood perfectly. Still, he’d hoped the day would dawn clear and a little bit warmer for his last-first day of school. But with the way the sky looked now, it was more than likely to rain. Not an unusual occurrence and surely London, his intended destination, was already in the thick of the downpour.

Not that Scorpius needed to go to London and catch the Hogwarts Express. He was seventeen and perfectly capable of apparating to Hogsmede and then walking up the drive to the school but there was something special about the tradition of catching the train.

It had taken him to and from Hogwarts every year since his eleventh birthday. It was reliable, dependable. The spirit of it, like the spirit of Hogwarts, would never leave nor abandon him. And that was why he sat on the great stone steps before the imposing entryway to the manor, waiting for his portkey to become active. The floo network was down, otherwise that would have been the easiest way to London. Apparating would have been second, but with all the new safety regulations being passed down, it just wasn’t worth it until everything was settled and set in stone. He didn’t want to accidentally screw something up just before going back to school. This left him with one option: the portkey.

The train would leave at 8am sharp, as it did every year smoking and puffing its way out of the station, and the portkey would transfer him to the platform at precisely 7:30. It was only just seven now, so he had some time to wait and think. Scorpius supposed he could have slept in a bit, but what was the point when all he did anymore was toss and turn? He felt better when he didn’t even try because at least then he knew he hadn’t failed.

Scorpius had made enough energy rejuvenation potion to last till the Christmas holidays, hopefully, so he wouldn’t have to worry about disturbing his dorm mates with his restless sleeping attempts. He could just sit quietly at night in the common room by himself and that way he wouldn’t be bothering anyone at all.

 

It was the first day and mum was already giving him O.W.L. preparation tips. Hugo felt like a caged animal, glancing between his stern-appearing mother and older sister Rose, who looked like she was trying not to snort into the coffee as black as her soul. Rose had said mum was bad when it came to O.W.L.’s, but Hugo had never expected a full-frontal assault at seven in the morning on September 1st, before he stepped foot on Platform 9 & 3/4. Dad’s head was wisely buried in the paper and Hugo wished his could be buried in one too.

Anything to stop the onslaught.

Normally Hugo could count on his dad to come to his rescue and tell mum to pie down or lay off for awhile. They’d been fighting a lot more lately though, and he supposed his dad just didn’t think it was worth it this particular morning. Hugo didn’t exactly appreciate the sentiment, but he didn’t really want to hear his parents fight either.

“Hugo Weasley-Granger, are you even listening to me right now?” His mother’s voice was in the dangerous place between ‘righteous anger’ and ‘prepare to die’. Even Rose stopped laughing. _No one_ messed with mum when she was this kind of angry.

“Y-yes mum, I am,” Hugo mumbled and Hermione Granger turned to her husband of almost twenty years who was now more than ever hiding behind his Daily Prophet. Uncle Harry’s face was plastered across the front, or it would have been if he hadn’t been hiding outside of the frame. Even a picture knew better.

“Ronald. Our son doesn’t care about his education.” They all knew what she really meant though: ‘back me up on this or so help me, Merlin you don’t want to know what I’ll do.’

The newspaper lowered only enough to just barely see his clear blue eyes and receding red-speckled-with-gray hairline.The eyes were very wary and Hugo knew his dad would have preferred it if he could have stayed out of the whole mess. But Hugo would have preferred it if his mum would have waited and sent him her O.W.L. preparation tips with an owl a few months in the future rather than over the breakfast table while he was trying to digest his toast.

After a long moment, Ronald Weasley sighed and put his paper down on the table, Harry’s face narrowly missing his coffee, the metal extender attached to his elbow stump was awkward and perhaps more trouble than it was worth. But Ron refused to give it up because it let him read the morning paper the way he used to.

“You have to stop putting pressure on Hugo like this. He’s smart, he always passes his exams and his O.W.L.s will be no different. You’re going to make it worse by making this a life or death situation.”

“Oh you _would_ say that, wouldn’t you? Just because Hugo’s a good keeper doesn’t mean I’m not going to hold him to the same standard I hold Rose to.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Hugo saw Rose squirming in her seat and her knuckles were white from clutching her coffee mug. Their mum obviously still didn’t know that Rose had, with some help, faked her perfect O.W.L. results. She hadn’t failed them, but she certainly hadn’t gotten all O’s either.

“Because that has worked out _so damn well_ , hasn’t it? Because she’s been so focused on getting the best grade, Rose hasn’t had a damn second to herself, to figure out what she wants in life. Because of you and the bloody pressure to be perfect you put on our children 24/7!”

Hermione’s nostrils flared and she pushed away from the table. “If it wasn’t for me, our children would have failed long ago - same as you would have if I hadn’t saved your sorry arse from Snape’s surprise potion essays every other bloody month.”

Hugo stared down at his sad-looking eggs as the sounds of his parents fighting faded into the background like the white noise on a television. Looked like it was going to be another typical morning at the Weasley-Grangers.


	2. A Beginning of Sorts

 Scorpius wanted to be _anywhere_ than alone in a train compartment with Rose Weasley-Granger. Anywhere else but that train compartment was fine. It wasn’t as though he found her to be a particularly _repugnant_ person. Aesthetically, she was very nice to look at - even with the freckles. But she had never been the problem in their relationship. Consistently, Scorpius had been the concrete wall that was impossible to break through or climb over. And putting them in a train compartment together made it very hard to keep those walls.

They had known each other for six years. Rose, in a fit of eleven-year-old rebellion against who her father deemed ‘acceptable’ to befriend, had latched onto him like someone drowning and desperate to stay afloat. Consequently, they’d become best friends and grown up together. He’d grown more awkward and she had become the epitome of grace. Everyone expected them to get married after they left Hogwarts, but… they hadn’t even dated. Their one miserable Hogsmede outing during fifth year did _not_ count.

It wasn’t Rose’s fault. And he didn’t really think it was his fault either. It just wasn’t something that was going to happen. Anyone would be lucky to date her, she’d grown up intelligent, honest (mostly) and brave. The only real ‘problem’ between them was that he just didn’t want to date her. He didn’t want to date _anyone_ and it was becoming a sore spot between them. It bewildered him. What was so wrong with staying friends? They had plenty of time to have a romance, (if they so wished - he suspected he wouldn’t) and get married. There was no reason to rush everything.

It wasn’t as if Voldemort was going to make a comeback.

He was _really_ dead after that last time.

But Rose was a little bit more relevant than him. Oh Rose. Since his mother’s accident, she had backed off with the frustrated glances and not-so-subtle hints, but the tension between them was still too thick to cut through. And Albus wasn’t helping when he left them alone like this on purpose. They would talk, but never about what mattered because Rose just wouldn’t and Scorpius was afraid to risk losing his best friend by being brutally, unquestioningly honest. What if she just didn’t understand?

“So how’s your dad been doing?” Rose asked after they’d meaninglessly discussed the gloomy weather for a good ten minutes with no sign of Albus reappearing.

When Scorpius hadn’t asked Rose to _any_ Hogsmede outings the year before, there had been speculation that he was interested in a certain A.S.P., but that wasn’t true either. They were friends and that’s how Scorpius wanted to keep it. Beside, Albus was already in a relationship. No one knew who with, but whoever they were, they made Albus happy and that’s all that really mattered in the long run.

If only Rose could find someone too. Someone who wasn’t him.

Scorpius shrugged in the most non-committal way he could manage. They didn’t talk, so in all honesty if they didn’t take their meal together once a day, he wouldn’t even know if his dad was alive. He’d never thought his parents had been in love until after his mother died. They’d had a cold, distant relationship but at the funeral Draco Malfoy had done something his son had never thought to see.

He had cried.

Since then, he had done his very best to lock himself away from the world - and his son.

Rose sighed. “And how are you holding up? I know you two were close.” She wasn’t talking about his father.

In lieu of an answer, Scorpius stared out the window at the passing countryside. Fields passed by in seconds, sheep and people were gone in the blink of an eye. Things in life were so fleeting. Life itself was fleeting. Healthy one day, six feet under the next.

“Scorpius. You need-”

“So how are your parents doing?” Being friends for six years went both ways. Just as Rose knew everything about him, he knew everything about her. Including all the ‘juicy’ details of the marital stress between Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley that Rita Skeeter would do just about anything to sink her talons into. It had started with Hermione keeping her last name, ( _is Weasley not good enough for you?_) and was currently focused on Hugo, Rose’s younger brother.

Rose grimaced. “They went a week without fighting and I was filled with false hope. Then this morning happened. Poor Hugo.”

Scorpius didn’t need to ask - it was pretty clear from her face that it had been one of the bad ones. He wanted to hug her, but at the same time he didn’t want to give her the wrong idea. So he did nothing but sit and stare at his hands.

He was a useless best friend sometimes.

 

Hugo’s face pressed against the cool window glass and he looked out the window but his eyes weren’t focused on anything in the present. He was thinking back to the first fight he could remember. He’d thought it was his fault. He’d only been _five_. He knew now that it _hadn’t_ been his fault, but still. The feelings of guilt and false responsibility weighed heavily down on him.

Their words floated back to him like choking, poisonous gas.

_“How could you be so irresponsible? He could have **died**.”_

_“I had everything under control! I only looked away for a second.”_

_“A second is all it would have taken! I can’t believe I even let you buy him that bloody toy broom. I knew something bad would happen.”_

_“’Mione, Hugo’s fine. We’re fine. Can’t you just let it go? We’ll put the brooms away until he’s older, all right?”_

_“No! This isn’t all right! This is our son’s **life** and you just want me to **let it go**? I can’t believe you right now.”_

“Hugo?”

He shook his head and hit his cheek against the window. Lily, he should have known.

“Hey Lil, what’s up?” They were in the same year, but sometimes Hugo felt so much older than his cousin. Technically he was by a few months but sometimes it felt like years. Lily was the baby of the Potter family and she knew it - basked in it even. So much that the treatment tended to transfer over to every relationship she had.

Lily draped herself across the seat, her long, ginger hair streaming out from her head like rays from the sun. She’d inherited her wide green eyes from her dad and his mother before him, so just as James looked like his namesake, she looked like hers.

She sighed dramatically. “James has made mum upset and for some reason she got it into her head it was _my_ fault, so now I have to try out for quidditch.” Hugo tried to grimace empathetically at his cousin though he really didn’t understand her complete aversion to the sport. It was, in his opinion, what made life worth living.

His cousin was obviously not of the same mindset. Lily couldn’t _stand_ the sport both her parents loved so much. Hugo remembered little league quidditch and what a nightmare that had been. Oh the screaming. He remembered his dad jokingly asking his mum if Lily was actually _her_ daughter since everyone knew mum wasn’t a quidditch fan either. His mum had not been amused by the question.

“Sounds stupid,” Hugo said after failing to think of anything better to say.

Lily sat up. “I _know_. Maybe she’ll forget about this by the time we have tryouts in October. It could happen, right?” She looked so hopeful and he hated to crush that, but Hugo was a realist and he didn’t believe in empty promises.

“Has your mum _ever_ forgotten _anything_ having to do with quidditch?”

She sank down low in her seat. “No…” Lily sighed before brightening again. “But there’s a first time for everything!”

Hugo wanted to roll his eyes but he opted for a chuckle instead. “Well you better hope like hell that this is her first time, otherwise I’ll see on the pitch in October bright and early for tryouts. And you better bring your A-game, you won’t get on the team by just puttering around.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “Right. How could I forget - you got Captain this year and are now the pride of the family.”

He grinned but it quickly faded. Yes, he had gotten Captain - not that it much mattered in the Grand Scheme of Things, according to his mum. O.W.L.’s mattered, and that was all. She would be proud if he got all O’s - not if he led his team to victory.


	3. Life

Another welcoming feast had come and gone. Chattering like chipmunks, the first years were off with their respective Prefects, starting their new lives and forming their new identities as house members. They were sure to be up all night with the excitement, despite the equally certain admonishments they would receive from their Prefects.

It was entirely predictable and that’s why Scorpius loved it. Life at Hogwarts changed almost as often as the stairs, but some things couldn’t help but stay the same. And tomorrow would be a frenzy of lost first years and bored upper years who had to go through the same ‘first day’ speech for what seemed like the hundredth time.

Scorpius couldn’t wait to get his schedule. In his opinion, the morning was the best part of September 2nd every year. Receiving his schedule, comparing it to Albus’s and Rose’s, it was tradition. He would miss it in the years to come.

“Oi! Malfoy!” Albus shouted from behind before coming up and ruffling Scorpius’s already mussed hair. “How was your summer?”

“Uhm, it was… yeah.” Scorpius shrugged and tried to ignore the wave of sadness.

Albus’s face fell. “Shit, I didn’t mean that.” He awkward patted his friend on the shoulder. “Like usual, I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry mate. You know I’m here if you need to talk, but I’m shit at saying the right things. Obviously.”

Scorpius snorted. “You can say that again, asshole.” He stood, gaze level with Albus’s. They’d fought for who would end up taller for years, but fate had declared it a toss-up and they’d ended up just about the same. “But if it’s all the same to you, I would rather not talk about my summer. Leave the past in the past, eh? How was yours though? Anything exciting happen?”

Albus slung his arm around Scorpius’s shoulders and rolled his eyes as they began to walk out of the Great Hall. “Oh nothing out of the usual. James flip-flops between ‘family disappointment’ to ‘golden child’ every time I turn my head and Lily got herself in trouble with mum by re-purposing some of her old brooms so she’ll _definitely_ be playing quidditch this year. While I was left blissfully alone which is the one and only perk to being the middle child as far as I can see. Hell of a perk though.”

“Sounds like the usual Potter family summer holiday to me,” Scorpius said and forced out a chuckle. He and Albus weren’t nearly as close as he and Rose were, but they were still good friends and he knew _all_ about the shenanigans that went down in  the Harry Potter’s house.

“Yeah. It was. Rose visited a lot too though, so I guess I can’t really say I was left alone. Mum occupied a lot of her time. She can be really nosy.” Albus grimaced.

“She told me on the train after you left us. Apparently the fighting has been getting worse and it’s all about Hugo?”

Albus nodded and un-slung his arm. “Even mum has been worrying about Uncle Ron and Aunt ‘Mione. Apparently he looks like a death eater’s gotten a hold of him every time she sees him at work and Aunt ‘Mione almost lost a case the other week. She’s also been owling dad a lot more than usual, and the letters have been heavy. Pigwidgeon the Third isn’t doing so well with them. It isn’t good mate, it isn’t good for anyone at this point. Not even the owls are safe.”

Scorpius shook is head. “Rose seemed like she was at the end of her rope. I wish I knew how to help her but I feel like I just can’t.”

Albus stopped abruptly and glanced at him, a solemn expression on his face. “She might just be. I never thought I’d see the day but… Rose can’t handle stuff like this.”

The duo was quiet for a moment before saying their good nights and walking to their respective underground common rooms. More than one heavy thought about a cousin and a friend weighed down their minds and neither rested that night.

 

The Gryffindor common room was like a pair of old socks. A little worn in some places, but still the most comfortable thing in existence. They, or rather, it, was something that felt an awful lot like coming home after a very long trip. Familiar, dependable, and comfortable were all words Hugo would use to describe his common room.

So it was strange that on this particular night he didn’t feel any of those things.

If he was being honest with himself, (and he usually tried to be) he didn’t know _what_ he was feeling. Loss? Confusion? Despair? It seemed like a little bit of everything rolled up into one giant mess. His mum would owl him about O.W.L.s one week and his dad would owl him the next telling him to ignore his mum. It had been the worst month of his life. His parents couldn’t seem to get enough bloody fighting done at home so they had to do it through him too. He half wondered if Rose was dealing with a similar situation. He doubted it. His parents seemed to be too focused on who got to ‘claim’ him as their child at the moment. The whole thing made him feel sick to his stomach.

 

_Dear Hugo,_

_I hope you’re studying enough. Every day even!! You know O.W.L.s are just around the corner! Maybe Rose could help you?_

_Love, Mum_

 

_Hugo,_

_Don’t worry about your mother’s letter. I know tryouts are coming up soon, (they’ll be here before you know it) so just focus on building the best team Gryffindor has ever seen!_

_Love, Dad_

 

It went on and on. A seemingly never-ending back and forth of letters. It was getting to the point where Hugo was tempted to burn them on sight. But that would just result in Howlers.

“Hugo Weasley?” a high-pitched voice said from somewhere in the vicinity of the couch he was sprawled on. He sat up and opened his eyes, blinking.

“Oi, who’s there?”

A waifish looking girl stepped into view a few feet away from him and waved. “Hi. You’re the new Quidditch Captain, right? That’s what your cousin Lucy told me.”

He blinked a few more times to focus and nodded.”Yes, that is true, amazingly enough.”

She smiled and sat down on the armrest of a nearby chair. She was about five foot and very slender, looked young too - but not a first or second year. Probably third or fourth if she knew Lucy. She reminded him a little of his cousin Roxanne, they had similar noses, but her skin was a shade or two darker and her hair was cut in close, tight curls rather than the way Roxi plaited hers. “I’m Isabelle Langley and I want to try out to be your seeker.”

Hugo arched an eyebrow. “You do know we’ve already got one, right? Lawrence Fitzhugh, a seventh year.”

Isabelle nodded. “Of course I know. Lawrence has been my idol since I first saw him play three years ago. I know I couldn’t take his spot - at least I not yet - but I want to be on the team and learn from him while I still can,” she said in one great rush then paused before continuing. “So I suppose it would be more accurate to say I want to try out to be _reserve_ seeker. And I know you don’t have one of those.”

“You’re right, we don’t.” The reserve, Janelle, had left Hogwarts last year. Hugo leaned back and eyed the girl. Upon closer examination (with more focused eyes), she wasn’t so much waifish as she was wiry - a good trait for a seeker to have physically. Plus, she was obviously small and light - a great combination. After Lawrence left, they could definitely use her. “And you probably know we don’t do alternate-specific tryouts unless our main player is injured because we almost always have a pick of alternates from the regular tryout pool.”

She nodded emphatically. “I know, and I know this is asking for some special treatment, but it would mean a lot and I’d do just about anything for a chance.”

Isabelle was right. It _was_ asking a lot - especially since he had so much else on his plate. But something tugged at him. She reminded him of how desperate he had been for a chance as a second year with a chip on his shoulder. He shouldn’t have been a reserve Chaser, but Wood had given him a chance. And it was about time he paid that favor forward.

“All right, but you’re gonna have to prove to me that it’s worth my time to hold this extra tryout. Are you free tomorrow afternoon? I’ve got the pitch booked for a pre-season team meeting. Show up and show us what you’ve got and I’ll consider it.”

Her eyes lit up. “I’ll be there. And thank you so much. You won’t regret it.” She beamed at him before trotting away. Hugo sighed and rubbed his face. He sure hoped he wouldn’t.


	4. Back & Forth

Falling asleep in Potions wasn’t exactly what Scorpius would call a ‘hard’ thing to do. Professor Merryweather had the terrible habit of droning on and on about absolutely nothing. He could be worse than Binns at times. Even Binns’ monotone account of the Goblin Wars wasn’t as boring as Merryweather’s lecture on the mundane properties of wormwood.

To make matters worse, (or better depending on how he chose to look at it) this was one of the classes he didn’t have with either Albus or Rose. Albus didn’t need potions to be a wizarding lawyer and Rose had tested out of it. So Scorpius, who didn’t exactly know what he wanted to do with his life, was stuck there by himself for a whole, boring, miserable year. It was going to be a bloody long one.

Scorpius remembered how excited his mother had been when he’d told her he was taking Potions as an elective his seventh year. It had been her favorite class at Hogwarts. Apparently the old professor, Slughorn, had been a great professor and she’d been one of his favorites.

_Scorpius, Potions is one of the most exciting classes in Seventh year. You’re going to learn so much and by the time you’re done, you’ll probably be able to teach even me a thing or two!_

He could still hear the sound of her laugh, as clear as a bell. Hearing her voice, even as a memory, made his head ache. He missed her so much, and there was no one he could talk to about it. She had been the only one who _truly_ understood him. That’s how it felt to him, anyway. From the start she had been the best mom, or parent for that matter, ever.

She never made him feel pressured to live up to the ‘Malfoy expectations’ and she’d been _proud_ of him when he’d been sorted into Hufflepuff much to the shock of the family at large. “ _We’ll have someone kind in this family, at last_ ,” she had said when he’d told her over the winter holiday. His father hadn’t quite felt the same way, but at least he hadn’t been openly disapproving. Just cold and distant, which was nothing Scorpius wasn’t already used to. He couldn’t remember a single instance of his dad hugging him or showing any kind of affection toward him.

“Mr. Malfoy? Your attention, if you please.”

Scorpius jolted upright. The two girls sitting at the desk over from his giggled and he tried to ignore the blush he felt creeping up his neck. “Yes, professor?”

Merryweather sighed, a completely nasal sound. “I would appreciate it if instead of focusing on whatever irrelevant thing you were thinking about, you would instead focus on today’s lecture so that later when you are making the potion I assign you, you don’t make a mistake that inevitably leads to the death of yourself, myself, or your classmates. Is that understood?”

He bristled slightly at the ‘irrelevant’ comment but nodded. “Yes, professor.”

“Very well, as I was saying…”

Scorpius could make this potion in his sleep so he zoned out again almost immediately. It wasn’t his fault that Merryweather’s voice was more effective than a lullaby when it came to putting people asleep. Besides, he had a lot on his mind.

 

Hugo squinted in the bright sunlight at his ramshackle half-a-team. Isabelle wasn’t there yet, but she wasn’t late either. Still, they were getting restless.

Lydia McLaggen sighed loudly. Hugo admitted she was a damn fine keeper, but their personalities clashed easily and often. He’d told his dad about that once and ended up hearing about Lydia’s dad and what a git he’d been for a solid hour. From then on, Hugo asked mum or Uncle Harry about their old classmates when he really wanted to know something.

“What is it, Lydia?”

She leaned on her broom and narrowed her dark brown, almost black, eyes at him. “When are you going to tell us why we’ve been dragged out here during our _only_ break period for the day? Because so far this seems like a huge waste of my time.”

“Technically you didn’t have to be here until quarter after. It’s not my fault you’re punctual for once.” Hugo heard someone snort, Lawrence he suspected, and Lydia frowned deeply.

“Thank you for reminding me of why punctuality is pointless,” she deadpanned. There were times when Hugo just wanted to chuck a quaffle at her head. This was one of those times.

Someone else wanted to beat him to it. “Oh shove it up your pie hole, Lydia. No one cares that you would rather take your sweet ol’ time to get everywhere. We get it - you like to be the center of attention,” Eleanor Riley, their only beater for the present, said. She also happened to be the tallest person on the team. Height wasn’t always a great feature for a beater to have, but she made it work and she never had problems finding power to put behind her bat.

Lydia pulled out her wand and looked like she was going to do something menacing with it when a newcomer appeared.

“I’m here!” Isabelle said, panting a little. “What did I miss?”

 

Scorpius was stuck between a rock and a hard place. In other words, Rose and Albus. And there were no escape routes visible.

Rose snapped her fingers under his nose. “See, Albus? He isn’t paying attention to us again.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Scorpius saw Albus roll his. “What do you expect when all you’ve been talking about for the past twenty minutes is Ancient Runes? I’m in the class with you so I know what you’re actually talking about and it’s close to impossible for me to pay attention to what you’re saying.”

Oh. _That’s_ what they were talking about? It had sounded like a bunch of gibberish to him. So he’d gone to his happy place and hoped they wouldn’t notice for awhile. He’d gotten a good fifteen minutes or so but that had come to a bitter end when he’d forgotten to ‘mhm’ one too many times.

“Oh come on, it’s basically the study of the origins of our _language_. This is _interesting_!”

Scorpius snorted and Albus chuckled. “See! Now can we talk about something interesting, like the case your mum just won the other week. That trial lasted for _weeks_ , she must have been more frazzled than normal.”

He should have seen this coming, all Albus wanted to talk about anymore were court cases and precedent and what he could and could not say to a jury or the Wizengamot. All of it gave Scorpius a headache and made his stomach upset because it was like a constant flashing sign that said, ‘if you don’t figure out what you want to do with your life you’re going to end up a loser with no friends.’

It was Rose’s turn for rolled eyes. “Yeah right, like he wants to hear about that bloody boring old thing. It wasn’t even an exciting trial, not like the old Death Eater ones. It was just some stupid goblin fraud case.”

His shoulders tightened when those two words came out of her mouth. She and Albus could say them so casually but for Scorpius they were a familial curse. He hadn’t even been alive during Voldemort’s reign, but he was affected all the same.

 

So Isabelle wasn’t a bad flier. She was actually a pretty decent one, Hugo grudgingly admitted. Even Lawrence had complimented her technique and Lydia hadn’t felt like snapping at her for anything pointless - which was always a positive. To be fair, everyone seemed to get along with her and she seemed to get along well with them, even if she was a bit star-struck when it came to Lawrence. Hugo couldn’t really blame her, he knew the feeling all too well.

Lawrence was flying her through a few of the seeker-specific drills he’d come up with while Hugo sat on the bleachers and watched when Eleanor walked up to him.

“Hey,” she said.

Hugo tried not to look at her. Things were still a little bit awkward between them, as much as he didn’t want them to be. “You can sit if you want.”

“Nah, I’m good. Just wondering what she’s doing here?” He looked just in time to see Eleanor jerk her head in Isabelle’s direction.

He shrugged. “She wants to be our reserve seeker so she can work with Lawrence. I told her to come today so I could see how she meshed with the team and decide whether or not to have reserve tryouts.”

Eleanor snorted. “That girl looks like she was about born on a broom. You’re a fool if you don’t snatch her up quick, Hugo Weasley. More of a fool than I already think you are.”

He closed his eyes so he didn’t have to watch her walk away. It was too much too soon for him to handle. Why couldn’t life be like quidditch, he wondered. The goal was clear, there was only one way about it. You either won or you lost. Life wasn't so black and white but oh he wished it was.


	5. Faint Whispers

“Scorpius, what’s the answer to number 10?”

“Hmm?”

Albus shoved a piece of paper under his nose, almost giving him a paper-cut. “Number 10 on our Transfiguration homework - I can’t find it anywhere.” They were supposed to be working together on their homework but so far it was mostly Albus working and Scorpius not doing anything.

He just felt so distant and removed from everything. What was the point? He didn’t even know what he wanted to do with his life and homework seemed so meaningless in the grand scheme of things. And he was always so tired lately. The energy potions worked, but he had heavy bags under his eyes and more often than not he could be found slumped over in his chair. He couldn’t fall asleep though. He couldn’t bare the nightmares.

“I don’t know,” he sighed and slumped back in his chair. He was well over a month into his seventh year and his grades had gone downhill quickly. He just didn’t care about them anymore. He was too tired to care.

“Hey, are you all right, mate?” Albus had dropped the paper and looked concerned. “Seriously, you look paler than normal.” He rest his hand on Scorpius’s arm and it felt like it weighed 20 stone, at least.

Scorpius blinked to clear his vision but it only went fuzzier. “I-I don’t know,” he mumbled. His head was pounding with a steady drumbeat.

Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

The crease in Albus’s forehead deepened. “Maybe you should lie down for a minute.”

He tried to nod, yes that sounded like a good idea, but his vision went dark and everything was so quiet.

 

Despite her neutral/disinterested feelings toward the game itself, Rose seemed to have no problem crashing Hugo’s reserve-tryouts. They didn’t consist of very many people, (for obvious reasons) and so he was able to spot her as soon as she stepped onto the pitch.

Hugo narrowed his eyes and stomped over to his bored-looking older sister. As if to add insult to injury, she was about an inch taller than him too. And frequently reminded him of the fact. “What are you doing here?”

Rose shrugged. “I was bored. Scorpius and Albus are doing homework I already finished, so here I am to watch the beginning of your quidditch career. I’m sure mum is absolutely thrilled that you’re taking time out of your busy study schedule to do this. Ah well, all it means is that you’ll be crashing and burning a lot earlier than I expected.”

He chose to ignore the jibe. “What mum doesn’t know now hopefully she will never find out,” Hugo muttered. He wanted to please his mum, he really did. But every time he sat down to study, his mind managed to wander back to quidditch sooner or later. Studying was just so difficult and it made his head want to explode, so he just didn’t see the point. He was getting more done doing this than he would be sitting in the library.

His sister snorted. “Yeah right, you know as well as I do that mum founds out everything we try to hide from her. Everything, Hugo.”

He heard Lydia and Lawrence shouting at each other from behind and contemplated the morality of silencing spells when used on one’s team members. And sister. With some regret, he decided against it.

“Look,” he said. “I can’t deal with you when I’ve got pandemonium going on behind me. Stay if you want, I really don’t care as long as you don’t tell mum, but keep out of the way.”

She stared at him in the condescending older sister way she always did. “What? Do you think I’m going to run in front of a wayward bludger? Geeze, I’m in Gryffindor - not stupid.”

Hugo elected not to point out that no one would be using any bludgers during this considering they would be having actual beater tryouts next week. Or that, occasionally, lack of intelligence and Gryffindor could be interchangeable. For example, his state of mind when he accepted the Quidditch Captain position. That was a decision he had a feeling he would regret.

“And I’m no tattle-tale,” Rose said before striding for the nearest bench. Hugo would beg to differ after the teddy bear situation of their younger years but he didn’t have time.

He turned back to his fighting teammates. Wands were already drawn so he trotted over to them as quickly as he could without looking panicked in front of the hopefuls. “All right, what the hell is going on here?”

“He started it!” Lydia said angrily, her wand not wavering for an instant.

Lawrence rolled his eyes. “Like hell I did. Hugo, you need to keep this bint under control.”

Lydia gasped. “How dare you, you stupid, stuffed-up, overrated peacock. I ought to hex your eyebrows off.”

Hugo had to stifle a laugh. Lydia looked more frazzled than he’d ever seen her look before and Lawrence looked like he’d just been forced to suck the juice out of a lemon. He rubbed his temples. As funny as they appeared, this would not be a fun situation to deal with.

“Eleanor, could you please explain to me what exactly happened between them this time?” From past experience, Hugo knew that asking the parties involved would give him a blistering headache.

She sighed and shook her head. “You really do not even want to know. But basically, Lawrence was being a prat —”

“No surprise there!” Lydia interjected.

“And Lydia thought it would be a great idea to make things worse by threatening to have her dad owl his mum.” Eleanor stopped to breathe and Lydia saw the perfect opportunity to tell her side of the story.

“You make it sound as though I had no reason to threaten that!Lawrence said that I would actually be a good keeper if I would just lose a few stone so that I didn’t weigh down my broom so much.” Her lower lip quivered for a moment before she scowled. “So I asked him if he talked to his mother like that and he said yes, so I said great, I’ll have my da owl her and tell her all about what a piece of shit she has for a son.”

Hugo blinked, not entirely certain where to start first. He knew that Lawrence had been joking with Lydia, they all knew she was a brilliant keeper, but that didn’t make what he said okay. She was obviously, and understandably, very upset. Still, they were almost adults, so that’s how they should handle their problems. Not by running to daddy. He just wasn’t sure how to say all that without coming off as a total arse.

“First of all,” he said, pointing at Lawrence who still looked a little smug. “You need to not be an arse and apologize to Lydia.” What was left of the smug look quickly slipped off his face. “Lydia is your teammate and you need to show her some respect. That includes not making shit jokes about her weight.”

“Thank you,” Lydia said. “At least some people on this team know how to treat people with respect.” She looked pointedly at Lawrence who rolled his eyes in response.

“Wait just a minute, Lydia. I’m not done. We’re in our fifth year, almost adults, and we need to act like it. That means no running to your dad because someone was mean to you. You have to handle this crap on your own now, otherwise you’ll be screwed once you’re an adult.”

She bit her lip and nodded, wand finally by her side. “I-I see your point.”

Hugo turned to Lawrence. “And what about you?” He felt more like a mother hen than a team captain, but sometimes that was necessary in order to restore peace.

Lawrence shifted uncomfortably for a moment before nodding. “Right, you’re right, mate. I’m sorry for saying that crap to you Lydia, you’re a great keeper and it won’t happen again.”

Lydia nodded and Hugo clapped his hands together. “Brilliant! Now can we get on with these bloody tryouts?”

“Rose?! Where is Rose?” Albus’s voice rang out clear as a bell over the pitch. Hugo took a deep breath before turning to face his cousin, who looked just shy of frantic.

“Oi, what’s going on?” he shouted at his cousin.

Rose peered out at Albus from her seat on the bench. “What are you doing here?” she called, looking curious but not especially concerned. Hugo stalked over to Albus.

“I don’t care that we’re cousins mate - this is a Gryffindor-exclusive tryout and you can’t be here.”

Albus ignored him and grabbed Rose. “We need to go. Scorpius is in the hospital wing. He-he just collapsed.”

Her face went white and she nodded. “Well what are we bloody waiting for then?”

They hurried off away from a silent pitch. After a long minute, Hugo turned to those assembled and said, “So. Tryouts?” It was a shame about Scorpius - he knew him about as well as one could be expected to know one’s older sister’s best friends and he didn’t want him to be hurt for Rose’s sake, but he wasn’t important enough to cancel tryouts. They had a reserve seeker to secure.


	6. Fresh Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a release and an escape

Scorpius was released, or escaped, from the hospital wing two days later with strict instructions to lay off the energy rejuvenation potions. Madame Pomfrey might have let him get away with it, but she'd retired two years ago and her replacement wouldn't cave an inch.

Still, Scorpius was glad to be out. He sighed, breathing in a Hogwarts that wasn't tinged with a sharp, medicinal scent. This was the smell of long corridors, rustling parchment, old books, and magic. 

It was still early morning, so classes hadn't begun for the day; he could still attend them and not be any further behind than he already was but to his room and his books was not where his feet led him. The month before Scorpius left for Hogwarts the first time, before his mother died and his father's eyes were dark and hollow, Draco Malfoy had pulled Scorpius aside and told him about a room; a room that became whatever he needed it to be with a thought. Scorpius hadn't believed him at the time but he knew better now what magic was truly capable of.

It didn't take him long to find the place. It was in an unassuming, unadorned, off-to-the-side corridor. There weren't any paintings on the walls near it which Scorpius thought was the strangest thing about the place. Wherever one went in Hogwarts, there was always a painting or five to watch. But none here. No door either, at first.

_ I need a place where I can breathe. _

A moment later, the rocks shimmered and melted away, pooling around the bottom of an ornate door. Magic spirals inlaid in gold that winked when it caught the torchlight covered it. Scorpius's hand was on the handle and pulling it open before he realize what was happening and then he was  _ home _ .

A wild field beyond the manicured gardens surrounding Malfoy Manor, as the door shut behind him, Scorpius clung to the air and tears streamed down his face, burning salt pathways into his flesh. His mother had brought him here when she wanted to remind him what magic was supposed to feel like.

_ "Magic is a part of us, Scorpius, but it is so much more than that. magic is in the essence of existence." _

He sank to his knees in the field of sweet green grass and memories an wept, returning part of his essence to the place from whence it came.

 

Hugo was a balloon one sharp pinprick away from popping. His mother, afraid that sending letters directly to him wasn't urgent enough, had chosen to send him two at once, one via Rose, as if her first wasn't overwhelming enough.

_ Dear Hugo, _

_ I hope my letters find you well. I know it may seem silly to you of me to write you twice in one day, but I only want to make sure you're doing what's best for you. Remember, 63% of O.W.L. students who don't start studying the semester before do, (on average) one letter worse than students who do start studying the semester before.  _

_ Love, Mum. _

_ P.S. Your father wants you to owl him about how quidditch tryouts went. And he wants me to say we love you no matter what. Which we do. But you know that. _

The only positive Hugo could draw from this was, at the very least, his parents seemed to be on neutral speaking terms. But O.W.L.s? How could he even think about them on top of everything else he had to do for classes, not to mention quidditch. He groaned and Rose eyed him sharply from above her copy of the Daily Prophet across the breakfast table.

"Is she pulling statistics on you now?" she asked, not lowering her paper as she returned to reading it. Rose wasn't exactly sure what she wanted to do after leaving Hogwarts, (another source of great tension at home) but she read the paper every morning in hopes that it would spark something. 

He groaned, a little louder to express his absolute frustration and nodded. "It feels like she's bloody forgotten what it was like to actually be a student. I don't have  _ time _ to start studying for my O.W.L.s if I don't want to fail the classes I'm in right but now but if I  _ don't  _ start studying, I might bloody well fail anyway!" He waved his hands and the letter nearly flew out into a bowl of porridge but Rose calmly caught it just as it was floating down.

She returned the letter, lowered her paper and carefully folded it as she looked across at him with deep, unwavering eyes. "You don't have to be perfect, Hugo, no matter what anyone else," she said, "and even if you are, it won't make them stop fighting. It's always something with them."

"Don't say that," Hugo flushed bright red, redder than his hair. "They're our parents and they love each other." He had to work to force the words out. He hated that she was looking at him as he said it with pity, as if he was still a child who didn't understand how the world worked.

He shoved away from the table and out of the Great Hall, ignoring her when she called his name. There was only one place he wanted to be.

And so, Hugo found himself standing in front of the Room of Requirement.

_ I need an escape _ , he thought and the wall slid away in an all-too-familiar way and Hugo almost blindly escaped inside, only stopping when he realized he wasn't alone.

The door swung shut as he examined the serene expression on Scorpius Malfoy's tear-streaked face. He knew him well enough in passing, as one of his sister's best friends, but they weren't friends and this was the last place Hugo would have expected to find him.

Scorpius looked over suddenly, opening his eyes slowly and Hugo could see that the gray still glistened with wet sorrow. "Hugo?" It was a soft question.

"Err, hey Scorpius," he said with a sheepish wave. "Fancy meeting you here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow hello it's been awhile! I've been busy with important life things, but it feels good to be back in two of my favorite heads. Much love to you all. And thank you for reading! :)


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